Mercy

by Richard Turner

It was getting late in the day when Cooper called for a stop. He probably could have pushed on for another hour, but most of the others in the party looked tired and in need of rest. He looked over at Hawkins. "Sergeant, this is as good a spot as any to rest for the night. Let's get a fire going and get some food on. I'm sure everyone is hungry."

  "I know I am," replied Hawkins. The man seemed eternally hungry.

  "Sergeant, I want two men on sentry throughout the night. Make sure you put a man with a gun with each of Thomas' men."

  Hawkins nodded and got to work.

  "How are you doing?" Cooper asked Owens as he rested his back against a tall, bald cypress tree.

  "My head still hurts like hell, but I'll live," replied the sheriff. "How is Maclean?"

  "He lost some blood but seems to be okay. Mrs. Melancon thinks she's managed to stop the bleeding."

  A short while later, a roaring fire warmed the men standing around it. A couple of skillets filled with bacon sizzled over the orange and red flames. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, the air began to cool. A thick fog crept out of the swamp and washed over the small encampment, reducing visibility to a few yards in any direction. Pastor Melancon and one of the farmhands walked around the camp, keeping a watchful eye on the woods. The image of the two decapitated heads was burned into everyone's minds, fraying some of the younger men's nerves to the point of breaking.

  "Where should I place the prisoners?" Thomas asked Cooper.

  "Down beside the sheriff," he replied.

  Moses mumbled something to himself as he sat down on the ground with a sad expression on his face.

  Maclean grimaced and moaned when he was placed next to the sheriff. "Hey, Yankee boy, couldn't you put me someplace else," said Maclean, through gritted teeth. "The company here smells."

  "Be quiet," snapped Owens.

  Maclean sat up as best he could on his stretcher and grinned. "Did the sheriff tell you we're related? Did he, blue-belly?"

  Cooper raised an eyebrow. "No, he did not."

  "Well, we are. We're cousins on my mother's side."

  "So what?" said Owens. "Lots of folks are related in these parts."

  Moses lifted his head and sprang to life. Like a demented Imp, he danced around. His eyes gleamed in the light of the fire. "Everyone here has secrets. Secrets and lies. I may be simple, but I recall things real good. Like a couple of nights ago when we paid the sheriff a visit while he was sniffing around Maude Wright's place. He wants her and her warm bed for himself, yes, sir, he does."

  "Shut yer mouth, Moses," warned Owens, "or so help me God, I'll do it for you."

  "No you won't," Cooper said as he placed his hand on his pistol. "Go on, boy."

  "Maclean and the sheriff spoke in private, but he later told us he let the sheriff know we had nothing to do with the death of Madame Legrand's boy and his colored whore. Not that we wouldn't have strung them up ourselves had we caught the fornicating sinners. The sheriff went to bed that night knowing we were planning to shoot you and yer colored boy in the back when you rode out of Mercy Plantation. The Lord uses us to punish the wicked like you. Yes, sir, he surely does."

  "The boy's insane. Anyone can see that," said Owens.

  "Yeah, but he's telling the truth," said Maclean.

  Owens reached for his gun.

  "Don't!" warned Cooper, pulling back on the hammer of his pistol with his thumb. "Drop it on the ground by your feet, Sheriff."

  Moses broke out laughing. "Looks like Sheriff Tom Owens is going to be hanging from a rope with Mister Maclean and me."

  Owens tossed his pistol to the ground at Cooper's feet and stood up. "Captain, things aren't as they say. Give me a chance to explain my end of the story to you."

  "Don't listen to him. He's a liar," proclaimed Moses. "A sinner and a liar. God's going to punish him.

  "That's enough, boy," said Cooper.

  Rose took one of Moses' hands. "Hush now, child. Let the Captain speak."

  "Alright, Sheriff, you have one minute to tell me the truth," said Cooper.

  Owens raised his hand in surrender. "I can explain everything."

  Cooper walked over until he was inches from Owens' face. "What about this plot to kill Hawkins and me? Did you know about it?"

  "I won't lie; I spoke with Maclean out at Maude's farm. He said he was going to deal with a problem, but that could have meant anything. At no time did he come out and say he planned to kill the two of you. Hell, I even tried to convince him to leave you alone. I used your line about a regiment of coloreds coming up here to deal with him if didn't smarten up."

  Cooper's blood was up. He took a step back and took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked over at Stone, who had been listening to the entire discussion. "What do you think?"

  "I think he's lying. I've always been of the opinion that he's scum. Owens is no better than Maclean. But we've got no evidence to prove him wrong. I'm no lawyer, but I doubt anything Maclean and the half-wit have said tonight would hold up in court. They'd say anything to save their own skins by deflecting our fears and suspicions onto others."

  Cooper took a couple of paces back. His gut told him not to trust Owens, but Stone was right, the prisoners would say anything to shed doubt on their own crimes. "Okay, Sheriff, I guess we're going to have to believe you for now. But don't think about taking off in the middle of the night. I'd hate to let Sergeant Hawkins track you down. Got it?"

  "I ain't gonna run," replied Owens. Before he could move, Stone stood up, grabbed him by his jacket collar and pulled the sheriff toward him.

  "I've had enough of you, Sheriff," snarled Stone. "I'm going to see you fired from that job of yours for lying and incompetence. After that, you're going to be given twenty-four hours to leave town or face the consequences." Stone let go of Owens and pushed him away.

  Cooper smirked at Owens' predicament. He was probably going to lose his livelihood for his troubles.

  "I can't believe you'd take the sheriff at his word," said Maclean. "He was a coward and a thief when he was in the army."

  "You lying piece of shit!" screamed Owens. He dropped to one knee and reached for his pistol.

  Cooper grabbed the sheriff by the shoulder and pulled him back. "No, you don't. He's going to be tried and then hung for what he's done. Shooting him is what he wants."

  Moses giggled. "I don't wanna be shot. I wanna look the hangman right in the eye and forgive him for his sins. Yes, sir, that's what I wanna do before I go to meet my maker."

  "Rose, please keep him quiet," said Cooper.

  "You heard the Captain," Rose said in a soothing tone to Moses. "Be a good boy and I'll read from the Bible to you after supper."

  "I'd like that," replied the boy. "Moses, surely would."

  "As for you," said Cooper as he stood over Maclean. "One more word out of you and I'll be forced to jam a sock in your mouth to keep you quiet until we reach Williamstown."

  After supper, Cooper sat back and watched as Rose read a passage from her Bible to Moses. He hung on her every word and had a gentle look about him. Cooper felt sad for the boy. His own father had probably thrown him out onto the street where Maclean, for all his faults, found him and became a better father to him than his own had been.

  Hawkins took a seat and handed Cooper a cup of coffee.

  "Thanks," said Cooper. "How are the farmhands holding up?"

  "To be honest, not good. If Thomas wasn't here, I'm sure they all would have hightailed it out of here long ago. They've lost four of their friends and are terrified that they're going to be next."

  "I can't blame them. I'm scared too. It's a shame Maclean has passed out. I'd really like to know which of his men weren't at the farm when we showed up. I never thought to ask him earlier."

  "You were kind of busy."

  From out of the dark a scared voice called out, "Help me, Mister Stone. Please help me."

  In an instant, everyone in the camp stood and peered out into the night.

  "That be y
oung Solomon's voice," proclaimed Thomas. "He was with Cyrus and Nathaniel when they went missing."

  "Help me." Solomon's voice sounded weaker and more distant than before.

  "Solomon, where are you?" yelled Stone.

  Cooper and Hawkins grabbed a couple pieces of burning wood from the fire and held them up in the air to help them see out into the swamp. It was pointless, the thick fog hanging in the air all around them reflected back the light.

  "For the love of God cry out, Solomon," shouted Pastor Melancon. "Let your voice guide us to you."

  For a close to a minute no one said a word or moved a muscle. Everyone stared intently into the swirling mist. Finally, Stone broke the silence. At the top of his lungs, he yelled, "Cyrus, Solomon, Nathaniel, can you hear me?"

  The only sound they heard in reply came from the frogs croaking all around them in the swamp.

  "Dear God, what could have happened to Solomon?" asked Rose.

  "Perhaps he wandered away from the others and got lost," said her husband. "He may be only a few yards away lying hurt. Unfortunately, until the sun comes up, we'll never know."

  "He's right," said Owens. "I spent many a night out here as a boy. There's nothing we can do for him until the morning. If we head out into the swamp in this fog to look for him now, we'll only add to the list of missing people."

  "No one is going anywhere," said Cooper. "I have no doubt that some of Maclean's men are out there in the dark hunting us. We can't divide our strength in the face of the enemy."

  "God will watch over them," proclaimed the pastor.

  "For their sake, I sure hope so," said Stone.

  "Who's on sentry right now?" asked Cooper.

  "That would be Thomas and one of his men-Francis, I think," replied Hawkins.

  "I'd like you to re-jig the sentry roster. Let's go to fifty percent awake at all times. I don't want one of those bastards getting anywhere near our camp without being spotted."

  "Will do, sir."

  Stone placed a hand on Cooper's shoulder. His voice turned somber. "This isn't how I imagined this day unfolding. Tell me, Captain, what are our chances of getting home alive?"

  "If we stay alert and don't give in to fear, I'd say the odds are on our side. However, should we lose our composure, we'll be picked off one by one until there's no one left to bury the dead."

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